He's A Mystery
by AzikaRue394
Summary: No one really understands him. Did they ever even try? Brooklyn/Anyone. Not a fill in the blank story. For Macy.


A/N: Macy (Demolition-GIRL-33236) requested a Brooklyn/Anyone back when I wrote my Kai/Anyone. It's been a while, so long that she actually forgot I was going to write it (That says something very disturbing about my updates. Eep!), but here it is. It turned out less romantic than I originally planned; it's more like pondering, but I hope you like it!

Tidbit: It's written in first person unlike my Kai/Anyone. There's no particular reason for this other than Macy and I deciding it would be a refreshing change. I don't want people to think I'm taking the easy way out so there you have it.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

* * *

**He's A Mystery**

The sun beat down unsparingly that summer afternoon. At one o' clock it sat on a high, relentless peak, ordering all citizens of its present kingdom to seek comfort in the cool tides of the ocean. Readily they'd retreated, unwilling to spend precious vacation hours sitting in an overcrowded hotel swimming pool. So, to the beach they'd gone, now crowding up the sandy shore and leaving the swimming pool to one lucky vacationer and the single lifeguard needed to keep it open.

Brooklyn Kingston smiled as he welcomed and embraced his good fortune. The pool's water was crystal clear and shimmered in the intense sunlight, making the surface appear to be covered by a filmy sheen of silver. He reached down and drew a hand through the thin membrane of light, admiring the ripples the movement produced and how they grew so big that they soon disappeared; a feat only nature could be responsible for.

Thinking of it as becoming one with nature, the enigma swung his legs into the pool and carefully dipped himself into the refreshing waist-deep oasis. He took a few soothing breaths and waited for all of the ripples to fade. Once the water had returned to its docile state he inhaled deeply and dove into the water's depths.

I watched as he executed a perfect freestyle stroke, loving the way his powerful arms cut through the water and how the muscles in his back fluttered with his every movement.

That boy had fascinated me since the time I'd met him. There was so much to him; just when you thought you had him figured out he'd turn up with some other baffling surprise hidden in his nature. He was a mystery and I was drawn to him.

There's some peacefulness about him that makes him able to relax in the bleakest of situations. At times he seems to radiate this calming aura, or maybe it's just me who can't stay worked up in his presence. No matter how upset something makes me, having Brooklyn in the room makes my problem seem nonexistent.

It's just so easy for him to ignore something, let it roll right off his back, that I'll often go find him when I'm seeking solace. Hearing 'just forget it' sounds better from him than anyone else and I wonder how someone can be so much at peace amidst chaos. I want that peacefulness, that freedom. I strive for it, but I'll never master it like Brooklyn; he has a greater need of it than me because of all that he's been through.

My quest to understand him led me to locating one of his old counselors. The man told me that, as sweet and quiet as Brooklyn was, whenever conversation turned to any form of doubt of his abilities he'd thrash out, wanting to prove himself, to be better than people thought he was. It was as if someone somewhere had told him he wasn't good enough, that he'd never be.

Feeling an unexplained form of understanding for Brooklyn, I'd found myself asking if maybe he was just too good. After all, from what I understand, he was naturally gifted in beyblading, academics, and just about anything else he attempted. For some people being too good is practically the same as not being good enough; jealousy makes them one.

When I saw him beyblade for the first time he left me with more questions than answers. He moved lazily, annoying his opponents with how he apparently didn't want to be battling but was still managing to come out on top. I could see he enjoyed having this hold on his opponent. Maybe it made him feel important and worthy. Maybe someone somewhere had held him in this same hold before to better themselves, now making him feel like he needed to be better as well. The problem was that he was already the best.

Then came the fateful day when I saw him _really_ blade for the first time. I was astonished by the power he had but I still wonder to this day if I'm the only one who noticed all of the anger, sadness, and hurt that he brought to the beybattle.

I don't know how it couldn't be seen; it was so obvious to me now. Brooklyn put on an uncaring mask, using it as a front to hide his pain in being a child that was always too good. Too good to beyblade against because he always won, too good to be in the Spelling Bee because he already knew all the words, too good to attend public school because he came home beat to a pulp everyday, and too good to be someone's friend because he made them seem inferior in comparison.

I've never met anyone who could make me feel so heartbroken and captivated at the same time. Everything I learned made me feel even more sorry for him, but it also made me long to know more. I wanted to understand him and help him. I wanted to show him that he wasn't as alone as he thought. And he definitely wasn't as alone as he'd been told.

I did the only thing I could think of; I confronted him. I told him what I'd learned and how I felt about it. By the time I finished, I was crying, but I'd gotten across to him. He spent the night opening up to me and I listened, something someone should've done long ago.

Reluctantly I brought myself out of my reverie to reapply my sunscreen. Presently I got back to watching the sole swimmer who now was saving any insect he found that had strayed unwisely into the pool. What a character.

As I mentioned before, I discovered that he had become very uncaring and withdrawn through his ordeals. He learned not to care what went on around him and live in the moment in his own little world. Nature was a common escape for it had never let him down before. There are, of course, pros and cons to living in your own world, but at least he learned not to care what others thought of him.

Whatever you think about Brooklyn, you can't say that he hasn't stayed true to himself; for a long while, he was all he had. He's strong in that way. His hardships sharpened him to a point, making him someone not to be rifled with.

Being misunderstood and hurt also helped Brooklyn to become amazingly understanding. He was forever grateful to me; the one who'd listened and genuinely cared. As a result he made it his mission to understand me and care for me twice as much as I cared for him.

I'm not quite sure when we evolved past mutual caring and fell in love. I'm glad we did.

This time my daydreaming was brought to an end when I realized Brooklyn had disappeared. When did that happen? I stood up to give the vicinity a quick scan. I found him pretty quickly; he was halfway up the lifeguard tower staring up at me with those beautiful cerulean blue eyes.

"Were you spying on me?" The ginger questioned, globules of water dripping off of gossamer strands of hair and gliding over his high cheek bones.

"You're fun to spy on." I tiptoed around the question. "You're very easy on the eyes, you see."

With a smile he finished his ascent, giving me a nice view of his flexing muscles in the process.

"Why thank you, darling. You're not so bad yourself."

As he reached the top, his lips met mine and both of us smiled into the kiss. He started to climb back down the ladder and I, not wanting to break apart just yet, knelt down and leaned forward, putting my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. Knowing I'd fall if he kept going, he paused until we came up for air.

"Wanna come for a swim?"

"I'm not supposed to leave my post." I gave a small shrug and half-smile at his fake pout.

"I think," he whispered, resting his lips against my ear, "you could guard my life a lot better from down there. They can't blame you for taking a dip with your boyfriend. I am the only one here, after all."

I shivered. "Well, when you put it that way..."

His lips split into a smile and he pressed his nose against mine.

"Excellent."

* * *

A/N: Other than the slightly rushed ending, I think this is half decent. It gives a little insight into what I think Brooklyn's past may have been like. My sister, Riley(QueenViolet), seems to think that I should write Brooklyn's life story which I might. You can let me know if you think it's a good idea; I may have to remake my poll if that's the case.

This is my second story set at a swimming pool, though. It's time to shop at Settings R Us again.

If you liked this, check out 'Masseuse'. It's my Kai/Anyone and I think it's better than this one. It's definitely more creative since I wrote it in third person. Anyway...

Review?


End file.
